


Surrender

by pumpkinpeasy



Series: demon!cas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Backrubs, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Body Worship, Bottom Dean, Bottoming from the Top, Codependency, Coming Untouched, Demon Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Gay Sex, Gratuitous Smut, I need to be stopped, M/M, Marathon Sex, Marking, Mild Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Overprotective Castiel, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Castiel, Power Bottom Castiel, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Addiction, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Castiel, Top Dean, True Love, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Witch Dean, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpeasy/pseuds/pumpkinpeasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel began teaching Dean Winchester the beings of the Dark, he'd hardly expected such a quick outcome. His human is learning, fast. He's smart, gifted, and has exemplary skills in bed. Perhaps it's the demon in him that led him here, but it was all Dean, now. Protecting Dean, loving him, showing him all that he could teach, and most of all, making it clear that Dean belongs to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Or, wherein I completely fail and end up with like 8,000 words of porn.
> 
> But, whatever, here's the second installment.

Castiel watched Dean shaking on the bed with each writhing spasm, his lover’s fingers clamped tight on the mattress. He took the weight of Dean’s legs easily, even pleasurably, as he viciously pounded him into the bed. Each moan and grunt was a thing of ecstasy, and Dean’s sheen of sweat glistening in the moonlight was something more beautiful than time itself. His hips punched forward, strong and precise in each perfect stroke, his black hair damp and mussed, sticking up in all directions as Dean had been tugging it, stroking, pulling…  
  
“Cas!” he whined hard through gritted teeth, trying so resolutely to cling onto reality. His gasp turned into a moan as Cas scraped over his sweet spot.  
  
Castiel bit his lip, midnight eyes delightfully raking over Dean’s body; his naked, vulnerable, gorgeous body as it rocked up and down, with each pulse of Cas’s hips. His cock was sheathed in Dean’s tight, wet heat, stretching him and pleasing him in every way he wanted, for now. He knew that he could be devious, at times, so Dean would take what he would be given. His tail swiped excitedly behind him, his strokes becoming more fervent and determined, nails scraping up Dean’s thighs, the human’s body trembling so hard he was nearly vibrating. His human was panting, mouth slack, eyes scrunched shut as he was taken.  
  
“Cas, please!” he was gasping, like a fish from water.  
  
“Dean…” came a low groan from his lips. He kept staring, watching and waiting as he made love to Dean, even while his eyes threatened to slide shut.  
  
Dean always referred to their times together as “dirty fucking” and “pain”, but that was over. He leaned down, pressing their bodies together and pushing Dean in half, to bring them nose-to-nose. Dean’s eyes were suddenly wide, pretty greens blown dark and sparkling with lustful desire. Sweat beaded on his forehead, sliding down his temples, so close to those eyes. His lips almost brushed over Dean’s.

 _“Tell me you love me.”_ he purred in demonic tongue.  
  
“I do.” Dean replied, raw and dry, “I have.”  
  
“Tell me again.” Cas insisted, as he sped up the tempo. His cock was then driving in, hard and fast, spearing Dean on his full, thick length, over and over again. _“Tell me, Dean!”_  
  
_“I love you!”_ he damn near shouted, the hard, sharp fucks jostling his body. “I love-- I love, _I love you!_ Love you so much.”  
  
Castiel grinned a toothy vampish smile, that turned wry and triumphant as he brutally pounded Dean into the mattress. The tightness around his dick was pleasurable, but he was growing tired of such repetitivity. Still… Dean’s moans and pleas were music to his ears, the little broken cries and whines just awe-inspiring. Dean’s body was prepossessing and all-consuming, just dazzling as it writhed and came in the moonlight.  
  
Dean kept true to his word; he loved him. He shouted Castiel’s name as he came so hard, arched so violently, he nearly levitated off the bed. His baby spilled come in a thick, sticky geyser, slicking their bellies as Cas fucked him still. Just a few more times… One, two, three, and on the last, Cas roared and filled Dean’s ass with his molten, syrupy release. His nails raked long, red marks up his legs, his orgasm shaking the bed with vigor as he trembled alongside Dean.  
  
The human was still coming down from his aftershocks when Cas slipped out, no doubt giving him a sad, empty feeling. He looked down at his cock, already softening a bit, dripping with the viscous whiteness. He let Dean’s trembling legs down gently, a small whimper from above. Cas mewled softly, climbing up to meet Dean eye-to-eye.  
  
“My poor baby… are you hurt?” he asked, stroking Dean’s face with a loving hand. He shook his head. “Need a pick-me-up, then?”  
  
Dean suddenly became still, licking his wet and swollen lips. He nodded weakly. Cas smirked and tenderly took his mouth with his own. Their lips slotted together, Dean eagerly drinking in the taste and smell of his lover. His tongue laved softly over Dean’s dripping saliva into his mouth to feed, like a mother bird to its baby. There was something deliciously wrong about drooling into someone’s mouth and letting them drink, but was all the more connecting, really. As Dean’s mouth worked and suckled on Cas’s lips, the demon himself was purring quietly, satisfied and admiring his good works.  
  
This beautiful wee boy was growing, steadily, into a man. A man capable of so much more than dabbling in mere spells and puny party tricks. He was capable of greatness, and of so many exquisite, artistic things with the knowledge that Castiel dared to give. He smiled to himself as he let Dean drink just a little more, before ending it with a kiss. His toy was blinded by desire and wanton need, by addictions and lustful acts, just wanting more without counting the cost. Dean looked like a helpless little boy, when Cas pulled away, and it took every ounce of control the demon had to not lean back and give him more. Those puppy eyes, freckles and flushed cheeks, were going to buy him no mercy.  
  
Well, perhaps a little, but not too much. “Better?” he asked, no more than a whisper.  
  
Dean nodded avidly, “Yeah… Yeah, a lot.”  
  
“Good.” he murmured, thumbing thoughtfully over Dean’s warm cheek. “I can’t have my little glutton going hungry, can I?”  
  
Dean blushed embarrassedly, shivering as he nuzzled into the crook of Cas’s neck. The demon found his sweaty, sticky body quite pleasant against his own, just letting a gentle, heavy hand do the petting on Dean’s side. He kissed his forehead, the edge of a hard, curved horn nudging the top of Dean’s head when he moved lower. He nosed lightly along his face, that stunning face, before kissing each cheek and smooching away the crease in his brow.  
  
“Cas, I--”  
  
“Hush. I’m not done kissing.” he murmured, and continued his work across Dean’s face. Kisses were laid over his temples, nose, his jaw and chin, over eyelids, and of course on his lips. He felt Dean trying to lick into his mouth, but stopped him by nipping at his tongue.  
  
“Why do you do this?” Dean asked quietly, almost as if it were something shameful. “I mean, the sex. Why?”  
  
“Deep down… in the cell of my heart, I know.” he whispered, in that perfect, raw mewl that he knew Dean loved. Cas stroked his chest, eyes sliding shut once more. “I know that you’re disgusted by my presence, and that if you didn’t need me or my serum, you’d have banished me by now. I want to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh and of Sin, before I’m no longer needed.”  
  
Dean almost laughed. “What? I’d never kill you, Cas. Never-- I’d never hurt you.” he said, reaching up and petting his horns lovingly. “Not ever.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes fell sadly. This is what he was afraid of; denial, preoccupation, and a fear of loneliness. Dean had everything he needed, sitting in his clueless waiting hands, but he needed a mentor to show him how to use it. Cas would gladly continue the works he was brought here to do, at the bidding of his Mistress Lilith, even at the cost of his own life. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sorrow. Longing, even; for the chance to keep his human, his Dean, safe and rightly in his arms forever.  
  
Cas finally broke a small smirk, and just laid another kiss to Dean’s hand, then running his own down the human’s dewy back. Perhaps this day wasn’t the day he’d understand. Maybe that day wouldn’t come.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
“Dean, you brought me here to teach you the fullest being of the Dark, not to watch you play with pencils.” Cas snapped the very next morning.  
  
Dean had been assigned a question on how exactly to blend Hartfeld leaves and Grigori’s Flower, to best consistency, and how to arrange pig’s blood in a proper pattern to summon a Gorgon. There was not much to it, and yet he’d been watching Dean fiddling with his pencil for the past five minutes, staring anguished at the parchment he’d been given to decipher.  
  
“I’m sorry, Cas.” he murmured, tapping the edge of his pencil on the parchment.  
  
“You’re thinking too hard.” Cas noted wistfully.  
  
Dean dropped his pencil and looked up at Cas hopelessly. “A minute ago, you said I wasn’t putting enough thought into it!”  
  
Perhaps he needed a hint. Cas crawled over to him, taking to crouching behind Dean and looking at the parchment. It was written in an old Demonic hand, aged and yellowed with time, but still clear. He rubbed Dean’s shoulder encouragingly, “What shape, pattern in blood, would you use to summon a Banshee?”  
  
“A…” he saw the realisation dawn painfully on Dean’s face. “A unicursal hexagram.”  
  
“Perfect.” he purred, watching Dean document these things in his journal. “They are like twins, but hardly the same.”  
  
“Thanks.” Dean murmured, rather shyly afterwards.  
  
Cas shrugged. He was only on his third week of teachings. He was likely not going to memorise it all within that time, or perhaps in the next three weeks to come. Absorbing such great amounts of demonic knowledge was going to take time. He traced the shell of Dean’s ear, the soft cartilage that lied within, rewarded with a small shudder. He knew all too well where his warlock liked to be touched. Castiel felt a hotness building in his spine, but he repressed it; this was a time for learning, and he would have to muster all his self-control.  
  
But, how… His warlock was so beautiful-- Nevermind that. He was supposed to learn, right now. Cas had to stand up and take a few steps aside, to focus his intentions again.  
  
“You did well. Decipher the next line, below the spell, Dean.” he said, voice tense and strict.  
  
Dean looked below, and started reading. _“‘I saw it, and it was a great monstrosity. What was one… compiled souls...’_ What is he talking about?”  
  
“The Gorgon. They’re ancient monsters that grow larger over time, with the contribution of damned souls. They stick together in one, giant form, and can wipe out a continent single-handedly.” Castiel explained, “Don’t worry. Someone in a predicament such as yourself, won’t need those ghoulish servants.”  
  
Dean inhaled slowly, then blew out a breath. His brow tensed for a moment, looking back down at the papers. “How will I know? What I need, to become more powerful?”  
  
“It varies…” Castiel allowed, quirking his eyebrows at Dean’s odd inquiry. Something strained inside him, to know what his warlock was contemplating. “Why? What do you plan to do, exactly?”  
  
“I… I just want to be able to stop monsters. From doing what they do, hurting people.” Dean said softly, “With magic, I can do just that. I can force all monsters to become docile, and stop murdering humans, but… I need you to teach me.”  
  
“I see.” Cas replied, absentmindedly softening his tone. He understood. At least with such powers, Dean was planning to use them for good. “Dean, as your Mentor, I’ll have control over how much power you can muster. If you use these powers for evil, for domination or the like, they’ll be gone in a snap.”  
  
“No, I- I know.” Dean promised. “I know. And I won’t disappoint you.”  
  
Castiel watched those bright green eyes look up at him, shining with an innocence and ardor that he hadn’t seen in millennia. Eons. It is said that the eyes are windows to the soul… if so, then Dean’s soul was pure. They spent the rest of the afternoon studying, Castiel teaching him more of monsters and their various weaknesses, their demonic Achilles Heels. Heart and drive were required for the job, but not much sanity, which did give Cas a bit of worry.  
  
When they had first met and he’d read Dean’s letter, he knew his desires. His wishes to subdue monstrous entities with the dominance and mastery of Lilith. But little did he know of Dean’s real innocence, as he noted before. What he’d mistaken to be a hungry grab for puissance, was seeming to be a real quest to purify and defeat. Castiel’s tail swung low behind him, sharp tip grazing the floor as he mulled it over in his mind. Dean would keep reading aloud for him, and he would keep listening.  
  
“How fine you look when dressed in determination.” Castiel noted, watching the crease in Dean’s brow. “Your enemies are unfortunate your knowledge does grow at a fine rate. You're lucky, too. Black eyes and blood suit so few.”  
  
Dean smirked and went back to his writings. Cas felt his heart surge with an exotic warmth as he watched Dean’s immutable interest. He sat perched on the edge of the table and leaned forward to peer at what Dean was doing, pleasantly surprised when he saw his human translating more on his own. His heart thumped delightedly, head swimming with internal thoughts and actions.  
  
Still, there they would sit and study, for the rest of the evening.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Everything went smoothly and good enough, that day. By the time the darkness had blotted out the blue skies, and the stars had glittered for hours, eleven-o’clock rolled around and Dean was still studying. He was so interested in Castiel’s journals, his works and his discoveries. It had encompassed him in the past three weeks, just so dazzling and enticing, leaving Dean to devour information and spells with a voracious appetite. Castiel was now watching him from the kitchen as he made some eggs for Dean, who was less than taking care of himself today.  
  
Part of him enjoyed confusing the human. Slapping and biting, lashing out during sex or during a fight, then taking to being so loving and pouring out all his affection into him. On occasion, Castiel remembered what it had been like to be in his place, to be studying the ways of the Dark for the first time, and how amazing it had been. He had been enthralled by the glorious pain and majesty it wrought through his own body, and he understood why Dean was so very distracted.  
  
Still, he smiled to himself and slid the eggs onto a plate, glancing back and watching Dean reading a certain journal intently. His heart leapt, as he saw his own familiar handwriting scrawled over yellowing pages.  
  
“Intrigued?” Castiel murmured, walking over and sitting beside him. Dean looked over, Cas prying the journal from his hands and exchanging it for the plate of eggs. “You need to eat.”  
  
“Thanks, Mom.” Dean said, though he did begin eating. Castiel smiled again, kissing his human’s ear.  
  
“You wrote this, didn’t you?” he asked. The demon looked back at his journal, recalling that he had indeed written this. It warmed his blackened heart to think that Dean had taken an interest in not only what Castiel had learnt, but what he had written. The human chewed on a forkful of the fluffy, yellowish-white eggs, watching Cas’s reaction to his book. He also noted that the words were in Demonic tongue, and that Dean must have been picking up enough to decipher this.  
  
Khihg aem hiksq, xaouqimuh irraeyaai, intueor zes waeiya oth yaeuksq. Rae haerdh duna, rae haerdh zlaaq.  
  
_(Child of light, beautiful innocent, heed my voice and thought. No longer pure, no longer sweet.)_  
  
Esaeu ona zira, zira oth aem ya gont, ir oth aem qaeqoh mnaa lizz.  
  
_(You are mine, mine and of the dark, in and of total free will.)_  
  
Esaeun xaouqes gaeaz hia liyir esaeun zith, oth esaeun doed l'togael. Intueor zes laengz.  
  
_(Your beauty does lie within your mind, and your past shadow. Heed my words.)_  
  
“Cas?”  
  
Dean’s voice broke his veil of unconsciousness. He had been staring at the journal for quite some time, now. “Yes. I did write it.”  
  
“Yeah, well… Awesome. Real page-turner.”  
  
Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, wit cocked like a pistol. He spotted the tiny smirk on Dean’s lips, and knew he merely joked, as a show of his appreciation. He seemed to do that often. Castiel rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, lightly tracing a fingertip over the old, crackling pages. His mind fluttered to think of the last time someone had read his works. The demon sidled up closer to him, gently shutting the protected book and set it atop the stack of grimoires.  
  
“You’re the first person to read those words, since the sixteenth century.” Castiel mentioned, as Dean slowly ate. His blue eyes slid over the human’s form, as he gifted a small smile.  
  
“I should feel honored, then.” Dean said with a nod.  
  
Yes. Just as Nicolaus Copernicus, Machiavelli, and Suleiman were honored to read his works, during that time long past. The adventures, scandal, trading and violence were all mere memories in the sands of time, but they lived on, in Castiel’s own mind. And in that sense, they lived forever. Dean was so warm, so inviting as he sat beside him, he thought this may have been a memory, all along. That perhaps this was a time past, in its own, and Castiel’s life was flashing before his eyes. Nonetheless, he let nothing stop him from kissing his lover with the admiration of a hundred followers.  
  
He placed the empty plate on the floor, and replaced himself in Dean’s lap. He kissed those plush lips again and again, and one more time, Dean’s arms coiling around him in a tight embrace. His tail swept victoriously behind himself, as he felt the hotness in his spine. Cas cupped Dean’s face with two large, warm hands, licking his way through Dean’s mouth just perfectly. His tongue was hot and wet, sliding over Dean’s, teeth clacking once or twice in their hungry pursuit.  
  
“Cas--” Dean gasped between kisses.  
  
His heart pounded to think of what he could make the warlock do. He had infinite power and possibilities, the human feeling so needy and so indebted to him. Cas chuckled darkly, feeling the way that Dean desperately drank from him, and breathed him in. His smell, his taste, his skin and his come. He sucked on Dean’s bottom lip, nibbling slightly before letting go.  
  
“Fuck me.” he demanded, shamelessly rocking in Dean’s lap, grinding their bodies together. Dean’s cheeks flushed. Castiel kissed him hard on the mouth, panting heavily. “I know you’ve got a big, beautiful cock. I want it.”  
  
“Cas, just… please.”  
  
Without another word, Cas laved his tongue over Dean’s mouth, tantalising. He was promising something that Dean couldn’t have until he obeyed his orders. A little wet flick over the human’s lips was all it took, for Dean to whimper and began unbuckling his pants. Castiel did the same, pushing them down his thighs as he sat in Dean’s lap, the demon’s cock springing from its confines. The human’s wasn’t so very large, but it was fat and substantial, in a way Castiel had wanted from the first moment he’d seen it.  
  
Dean sucked on two fingers, as Cas rutted and stirred in his lap, just wetting them enough for him to get the show on the road. Cas felt one wet fingertip tracing his pucker, hardly any pain when Dean pushed it in. He rejoiced in the feeling of it wriggling deeper. When Dean saw he wasn’t in pain, Cas felt a second prodding at his hole. The human was already flushed and dark-eyed, cock twitching in his lap. Dean was so full and so hard, he looked as if he were ready to burst at any moment. Then, those two fingers were fully sheathed and scissoring, Castiel happy that Dean remembered how to do it. He’d have to work on his technique, but this would do just fine.  
  
“Mmm…” was his only reply. Dean would have to do more than that, to get more out of him. He’d have to fill him more, to get a response. Cas was pushing down on those two fingers, brow knitted together in concentration.  
  
“More.” he whispered, barely a breath on Dean’s face.  
  
Dean’s grip on him tightened, his ring finger nudging at Cas’s hole. Fuck, he didn’t care if Dean opened him too fast, or if this was making the human nervous. He needed to stretch him, and just let him sink down on his thick, heavy cock. Castiel’s body was sweating and shaken by a slight tremble, by the time a third finger was pushing in.  
  
“Dean…” Cas sighed, letting his fingernails scrape at Dean’s neck. Those three fingers were pumping as they opened him up, leaving him a sweaty, flushed mess. Just like Dean. “Fuck, I need you.”  
  
Castiel reached down and eased his fingers out, then taking hold of Dean’s ample, leaking cock. The warlock looked up at him with wide eyes, as Cas rubbed the head of his dick against his hole. He felt the spongy, mushroomed head catching on his skin, a spurt of precum dribbling from the slit. He aligned himself with Dean, and started sinking down.  
  
“Cas, please…” he moaned breathlessly, but it melted into a long, mewling sigh.  
  
The demon felt himself taking in his lover’s cock, and it was amazing. He was filled, stretched, and just adoring the feeling. His hole took in inch after thick, beautiful inch, till he was sitting in Dean’s lap again. Dean was trembling hard, wrapping his arms around the demon’s waist, as he was fully-seated in Castiel’s tight, hot wetness. Cas knew it felt like thrusting his dick into a fire, but in the best way possible. He let out a breath, clenching around Dean’s cock, before dragging back up and sinking down again. His human whimpered, as he took hold of Dean’s shoulders and started riding him at a good pace. He let his legs do the real work, his body’s weight sliding back down onto Dean’s cock.  
  
His baby was so cute, so gorgeous, as Cas rode him. Those big, green eyes wide in astonishment, his full lips parted in a state of disbelief of how amazing it felt. His brow furrowed when Cas began riding harder, taking Dean’s dick roughly. He didn’t know how much Castiel truly loved it; The feeling of being dominated, but still in-charge. He could pull off of Dean and give him no more, or he could keep riding him to completion. Dean would never know which he’d choose, till the end.  
  
“Cas--”  
  
“Hush.” he ordered, just letting his eyes slide shut as he took his fat cock, over and over. Castiel reached down, taking himself in hand and started tugging at his own neglected dick.  
  
Dean whined helplessly, the feeling of being taken like this just too much for him. He clutched at Cas’s waist, a string of sad little mewls and a moan escaping his mouth. The pressure was amazing, Dean’s dick just the perfect fuck-toy; He jacked himself off with a vengeance, cursing himself for waiting all day. Cas grabbed Dean and tucked his head possessively into his chest, the man’s cock twitching, hips punching in time with his riding.  
  
Dean’s body was so hot, sweating and flushed as he was taken like this. Castiel felt a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he dragged back up and fucked down onto him again. Again and again, and Dean just couldn’t making little, pathetic noises.  
  
“Please, _Cas--!”_ he whined.  
  
“Dean… fuck, just fuck, Dean…” he growled in response, pulling harder at his thick, leaking dick.  
  
“Please! Please, I just… wanna come, please…” he whimpered.  
  
_“Not yet!”_ Cas snapped. They had only just begun, and Dean was--  
  
His heart dropped through his stomach, when Dean suddenly cried out and pulled Cas down onto his cock, bucking his hips as he came. It was jolting, being shoved down painfully onto his human’s spurting dick, feeling a sudden gush of heavy, molten fluid filling him up like a pearly geyser. Dean was sobbing into his chest, the poor human coming over and over, just as Castiel couldn’t contain himself anymore.  
  
He groaned hard as he came, an orgasm rocking over him, then another, and another as he spilled come onto Dean’s shirt. His sticky whiteness painted Dean’s chest in streaks, body arching forward as he fucked onto Dean’s dick, not even stopping. He clawed up his baby’s back, watching the syrupy white fluid catch on his flannel.  
  
“Cas…” he choked, trembling so many times it was scary. Dean threw his head back and caught Cas’s stare, tears streaming down his cheeks, heart thumping violently in his chest.  
  
Castiel let himself sink down onto his cock one last time, keeping Dean fully sheathed in his tight, wet heat. His scaly tail was raised, so graceful it almost seemed delicate, though it could strangle Dean if he so pleased. His warlock didn’t pay attention to the fresh come sliding down his shirt, but only wanted Cas to hold him. He was begging, quietly pleading with him to take him into his arms and hold him close. Cas sighed deeply, still winded from riding his cock, but nonetheless he grunted and reluctantly pulled off. He kissed his baby, his little warlock, the poor human he’d fallen for. This was by far, the most vulnerable he’d ever seen him; Dean’s cheeks were flushed and wet from tears of ecstasy, never being taken this way by his demon, until now.  
  
He needed to be held, cuddled till his aftershocks wore away. So Cas embraced him and stroked his hair, letting him breathe in his scent and his come.  
  
“My poor baby…” He’d grown into a habit of mewling these words into Dean’s ear, after sex. “Mmm, my baby’s so strong. Did you see the way… you pulled me down onto your cock, so you could have something to come into?”  
  
“Cas, I’m sorry.” he tried, eyes wide and terrified of some punishment.  
  
He purred delightedly, nuzzling at Dean’s nose. “Don’t say that when you’ve done nothing wrong. You were bad, but you didn’t wrong me. Subtle difference.”  
  
He opened his mouth on Dean’s and let him lick right in. Dean moaned hard, as Cas palmed the splatter of viscid whiteness on his shirt, then fondled his human’s soft, sticky cock. Dean squirmed, trying to fuck Cas’s mouth with his tongue, just to get more of that taste, but he was suddenly blinded. Cas squeezed his dick and Dean cried out, splashing a load of come onto his jeans gasping for air, but Castiel was kissing him so hard, air was difficult to come by.  
  
“Cas--!” he cried, the demon jacking his flaccid, oversensitive cock, so he came over and over, just fucking writhing on the floor. Cas jerked him again, again, and one more time, laughing a dark and evil chuckle as he watched him helplessly squirm and gush, till come soaked his jeans and it was splashed all over his shirt. He gasped, bucking his hips and coming, toes curling as he spurted his own thick release in streaks up his belly.  
  
He tossed his head back against the hard wooden floor, unable to stop fucking Castiel’s fist, throwing himself into ecstasy. Castiel squeezed harder, rubbing him out, watching his face screw up in the sudden blasts of his orgasms. With heated eyes, he saw Dean’s hips punching forward, hard and determined, his body betraying him and his cock streaming hot, heavy ejaculate. Cas loved this. Getting his revenge, so sweet, for Dean shoving him onto his dick. For thinking he had any control over Castiel when it came to sex. Revenge for coming so early and ending it when they could have had hours together.  
  
He felt Dean’s come still dribbling down his thighs in rivulets, the milky fluid seeping out of his hole and sliding down his legs, some even tracking down his tail. And hell if that didn’t piss him off.  
  
“Dean, you wanted to come.” he purred wetly, jacking him with determination, watching him come so many times he was almost screaming. “I’m giving you what you want.”  
  
Dean was almost sobbing, thick pearly come spurting from his cock as much as Cas wanted. He’d be punished as the demon saw fit, it seemed. Dean’s dick was reddening with irritation and pain, his balls pulsing over and over again, Castiel making him come until he was a sweating, flushed, gooey mess on the floor, covered in his own viscous seed. He angled his fist just slightly, watching the creamy whiteness spurt over his jeans and dribble onto the floorboards. His baby was coming so hard he was practically levitating off the floor, writhing in his grip, his come spilling over Cas's fist.  
  
“Cas, please!” he cried out, _“I’m sorry!_ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”  
  
Castiel heard the sadness in his voice, the actual regret for hurting him. Dean actually did regret forcing him down onto his dick, making him his virtual come-dumpster. Dean didn’t have a choice, but to keep bucking his hips and coming, at least until Castiel decided he’d had enough. His poor, sad little human was still unable to stop, until Cas released his cock and he fell to the floor in a heap of soaked, stained clothes, and painfully-hard orgasms.  
  
Dean’s chest was heaving, back arching and limbs trembling with the force of those orgasms. His forced climaxes, those amazing things that were Castiel’s way of getting retribution. He refused to be belittled by this human, and refused to have his pride taken by the lesser creature. At the end of the day, facts were facts; Dean was a warlock in training, and Castiel was a centuries-old demon who could do whatever he pleased. And a minute ago, he damn well wanted Dean to come until his cock and balls were in agony.  
  
“Cas…” he sobbed, and only then did he see it. Dean’s face screwed up in tears, body spasming uncontrollably with his aftershocks, panting, eyes glassy and fogged over by Castiel’s powers.  
  
Without another word, Cas pulled up his pants, tucked himself back in and zipped up. Dean was lying there, drenched, spent, and exhausted. Cas pulled off Dean’s wet jeans, carefully removing his soiled garments and piling them off to the side.  
  
“Hush, my baby, don’t cry.” he tried, feeling Dean’s emotional ache deep in his chest. Right where his blackened soul rested, he felt Dean’s heartstrings tugging and twanging with hurt. Lovingly, he laid beside him, stroked his cheek, wiped away those errant tears and kissed him softly.  
  
Castiel suddenly couldn’t believe he’d done this. His human’s cock and balls were an angry red, body coated in sweat and come, the entire apartment reeking of sex. He was covered in such sorrow, there was only one way Cas could bring him back up from this low. Cas took out a knife from his jacket, Dean flinching at the sight of it, but he quietly assured him it was alright. Castiel dug the edge of the blade into his own wrist, scarlet dripping from his split skin as he dragged the blade down.  
  
“Dean, here.” he whispered, offering up his wrist. “Here, please… Drink.”  
  
Dean latched onto his wrist, as he was told. Cas felt him sucking at the cut, tongue laving over the sliced-open flesh, drinking up the scarlet that fell from the wound. He suckled at the cut like a baby, just like when Cas would kiss him, offer him his saliva as a serum. Dean moaned into his wrist, swallowing the coppery red liquid, as Castiel adoringly stroked his hair, petting and encouraging him to drink.  
  
“My God, I never meant to hurt you, love.” he purred softly, nuzzling along the curve of Dean’s ear. “Just drink. It’ll bring you back up.”  
  
He cuddled his baby close, keeping him warm and safe, just holding that shivering, naked body flush to his own. Blood splotched around the warlock’s lips, staining them a deep red. Dean fell asleep drinking from his wrist.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
After things had taken a turn for the worse, Castiel had carried Dean back to his bed, cleaned him up. He laid him down to rest. His human would be asleep for the better part of the night, and likely next morning, which gave him time to clean up their mess in the living room. He put Dean’s clothes in the washing machine, cleansing the come from his floor, and so on.  
  
That beautiful Adonis hadn’t so much as stirred in hours. He was virtually unconscious, but perhaps that was for the best. Castiel was in no mood to hear the ranting, the speech about how he was sorry for what he’d done. He knew Dean was sorry, and he’d already paid for it dearly. His heart ached at the thought of his human waking up, and telling him to go. Telling him to get out of his life, that he would figure out the spells on his own. Nevertheless, he swallowed hard and made the living room look normal again.  
  
Dean was wrecked from his wee misadventure. He’d probably be sore… Cas wondered if Dean would accept a full-body massage. He’d been longing for a reason to give him one. Squeeze every inch of that perfect, soft-yet-muscled body. After cleaning up, he stripped naked and laid in bed beside Dean. Kissing his neck and shoulders, letting his tongue trace ancient runes and patterns onto his sweaty human skin. As Dean slept, Castiel lovingly sucked hickeys into his neck, marking his body as his own, just nibbling on the soft flesh. Tender purpling bruises soon littered his neck and shoulders.  
  
Castiel held only love and desire for Dean, among admiration and respect. But his judgement is clouded, when it comes to being humiliated. He couldn’t stand for it, being subdued in that way, and perhaps his anger had gotten the best of him. All he knew for certain, was that he wished the past hours hadn’t happened, and that Dean would be okay, come morning’s first light. With a shamefully heavy heart, he cradled his baby from behind and laid kisses all over his neck. Hickeys were aplenty, a bruised purple galaxy, just waiting to be explored and touched, caressed. Tiny red dots paraded through them, like exploding stars in dark heavens.  
  
Castiel purred a quiet lullaby to him, humming softly as he held him close, rocking him into a deeper sleep. His human would need the rest. For what he had planned for him, he would need to be at full power, and he couldn’t do that if Dean was constantly drained from having sex. At the same time, he couldn’t stop. He wanted to mark every precious inch of that glorious body, as his own.  
  
Every time he saw Dean, he felt himself getting hard, cock throbbing at the very thought of fucking him. Spearing that pretty, tan ass onto his dick, just fucking the righteousness out of him. Every time his eyes landed on Dean, he wanted to strip his clothes off, and grab him; His spine would get hot, his body just itching to touch.  
  
Castiel sighed to himself, his mind unfortunately prone to wandering when he thought of his human. His human… Ha. He’d gone so far as to state that he was his own, that he’d claimed him. And was he wrong? He’d bitten him, let him feed from his serum and his blood, he’d made love to him countless times, now. The demon was so very conflicted in this situation, it was rather displeasing. He felt Dean’s warm body slotted together with his own, and somehow felt at-peace, from all of this. No matter what happened, he could always rely on the fact that his baby would be here, still loving him.  
  
Castiel made a promise to him. He promised that he would look after him, but never impede his good works. Never claw into his sides and hold him back. A warlock like Dean came across once in a lifetime. He wasn’t about to let his selfish, sinful pursuits drag back what could be one of the greatest minds of their millennium. It had taken him barely a few days to decipher some of Castiel’s oldest, most advanced works. Completely in demonic latin, no less; like it was a familiar, yet dormant language in his mind.  
  
“Shh, my baby.” he whispered, Dean stirring just a little in his sleep. In the pitch-blackness, only a beam of moonlight could allow him to watch Dean rest. “My beautiful little protegee… So smart, aren’t you? Yes, yes, hush…”  
  
He resumed the stroking of Dean’s hair, warm breath on the human’s shoulder as he rested. “Hush, now, my darling.”  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
When Dean woke the next day, it was in Castiel’s arms, golden sunlight flowing through the windows in happy little trances. The demon felt him stir, his tail flicking excitedly at this new development, his human groaning as his sore body turned to face him. He swallowed hard, waiting for the anger, the curses of betrayal, anything. Instead, Dean just moaned softly and curled up in his arms, going back to sleep. He held him close, but it didn’t lessen the confusion.  
  
“Dean?” he whispered.  
  
“Hmm?” his human grunted. He remembered that his baby wasn’t a morning person.  
  
“Are you alright?” Cas asked gently, cupping his jaw with a warm hand. “I’m so sorry, my warlock, I wasn’t thinking.”  
  
“I’m fine…” he groaned again. Dean put his arms around Castiel, burrowing into his shoulder, nuzzling at his neck.  
  
“You are so beautiful, Dean, I would never want to hurt a hair on your head. Please tell me I didn’t.” Cas mewled quietly. It was a moment before Dean breathed in deeply, then exhaled through his nose. Stubborn little gesture, but it was all the more endearing.  
  
Dean shrugged a little, “My back hurts.”  
  
Castiel nodded, nudged him to turn away. His warlock did so, laying on his stomach, now, and letting Castiel pull down the sheets a bit. The demon tenderly began working his back, large hands squeezing and rubbing up and down locked-up muscles, the aches and pains just melting away. Dean moaned again, sinking into the bed and shivering at Cas’s grip. The demon was extraordinary. His hands and fingers worked miracles on his back, Castiel prodding inquisitively at Dean’s left shoulder.  
  
“Ouch!”  
  
“That’s where you hit it?” he asked, taking to rubbing that spot in gentle, soothing circles. “I heard you yell when you were on the floor. I’m presuming this is what that was about.”  
  
Dean scoffed, as Cas kept kneading his back. “Yeah-- ohh… Or, maybe, could be because you made me come a thousand times.”  
  
“Pot and kettle, darling.” he retorted, voice low and intimate, “You have no idea what you do to me.”  
  
His human shifted, allowing him to dig his fingers in at the back of his pelvis, rubbing in the tender small of his back. Dean sighed. Cas took pleasure in the clenching and bunching of muscles, just before they released… It reminded him of something else he enjoyed. His dexterous hands were no less than making love to his back, feeling the muscle move under a thin layer of baby fat.  
  
“Dean…?” he asked, tail padding woefully on the bed. “Do you love me?”  
  
“Of course. Cas… Cas, I love you, baby.” Dean almost chuckled.  
  
“I only ask, because of what happened.” he murmured, lovingly kneading the soft flesh of Dean’s back, hand running down the perfect curve of his spine. He leaned closer and breathed in Dean’s warm, delicate scent, his musk. “You are so perfect, I’d never want something to happen to you.”  
  
Dean huffed, as Cas pressed on a tender joint. “Heh. Perfect.”  
  
“I mean it.” Castiel mentioned, “You know, I’ve seen the definition of ‘perfect’. It’s written across your face.”  
  
“What’re you going on about, Cas?” he yawned, stretching languidly beneath his partner, his beautiful body receiving the best backrub ever.  
  
“Da Vinci’s Golden Ratio of the face?” Castiel queried, “It’s an example of what Da Vinci calculated to be perfect. I know he would’ve been honored to meet you.”  
  
“Why me-- Wait, how do you know?”  
  
“Because I knew Da Vinci.” he replied with a small grin. “I was one of his muses. He painted me.”  
  
Dean went quiet for a moment. Castiel felt his jealousy, at the mention of someone else who had had the honor to touch him, paint him, even see the ravishing demon. Dean’s body stiffened, as he made a face and waited for more. Castiel rubbed his hands playfully in circles on Dean’s back, remembering the days of Tuscany, Italy. Now, those were playful times.  
  
“Yes. He thought I was beautiful, too.” Castiel couldn’t help the airy, reminiscent sigh in his tone. “He painted me several times. Unfortunately, those paintings, I asked him to keep to himself. He gladly obliged, mind you. Leonardo was a simple man, with simple pleasures; Just knowing he’d been able to paint me, was enough.”  
  
“So…” Dean said, rather raw with a tinge of irritation. “1400s were a big time for you.”  
  
“Mmm, yes.” Castiel purred, getting right at Dean’s good spots with those marvelous hands. He leaned more weight onto his palms, pressing at the tight muscles around Dean’s ribs. “Of course, you must realise that back then, they believed that the wanton and lustful, the violent, and the sinful, would be condemned to bathe in burning pitch and brimstone. I soon moved to France.”  
  
Dean hummed his understanding. “And, as well, Da Vinci bemoaned his loss. I was one of his muses, but he understood my need to take leave.”  
  
“Where are you going with this?” Dean asked, rather impatient and apparently not in the mood to be regaled with stories of Castiel’s past admirers. “Are you saying you’ll leave when the going gets rough?”  
  
“No. I’m saying that that was in the past.” he said, eyes lost in that all-consuming tan body. “You, Dean Winchester, are the future.”  
  
His stunning human was capable of so many great things, and so many evil ones. It would take a strong man, like Dean, to manage to control what powers he could handle. It would take a stronger man, to refrain from using them for wickedness.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
“Dean, do please try to be like your betters. Namely, me.”  
  
Dean glared daggers up at him as he paged through Castiel’s aged grimoires. The yellowed, crackling pages once again were turned by curious fingers, delicately pushed over so he could read the next one. Dean looked as though he’d had enough of Castiel’s antics for the week, and he was well aware that the demon wanted him to focus better. To pay close mind to his words and lectures.  
  
“Power, as I was beginning to state before, is neutral.” he continued, “It’s just…. essence, really. Spark. There is no ‘bad’ power, no ‘good’ power. What people choose to do with that power, is the good and bad.”  
  
Castiel pulled out his knife, as an example. “Take for instance, this knife. If I were to use it to slice fruit, it would presumably be good.” he proposed, “If I were to, say, murder someone violently with it, and use it to cut up their corpse, that would presumably be bad. But the knife itself, is just indifferent to the situation.”  
  
“Yeah. So I need to think of this knowledge like a knife.” Dean carried on, nodding at the books. “None of it’s good or bad.”  
  
“Smart, smart cookie.” Castiel praised, walking over and ruffling Dean’s hair. “Such a good protegee.”  
  
Dean jumped out of his skin, when there was a sudden knock at the door. Castiel watched him leap to his feet, and peer through the little hole in the door, before recoiling from it.  
  
“It’s Sam.” Dean hissed.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
“My brother! Listen, please…” he whispered, pleading with Castiel, “Please, just _hide.”_  
  
“I want to stay.” Cas whined softly, though he began picking up the books. Stacking them in his arms and watching the door.  
  
“C-Can you hide your horns and tail?” Dean asked, caught between answering the door and snapping at Castiel.  
  
“You don’t like me the way I am?” he teased, “Yes, Daddy.”  
  
In a blink, Cas complied and hid his horns and tail. Masked them in a shroud of invisibility, and they were no longer visible or corporeal. Dean looked as if a huge weight was lifted from him, and Cas scurried into the bedroom before his human opened the door for the other human. Castiel heard a slightly higher, somewhat nasal voice grating in his ears, as Dean welcomed him inside. God, he hoped that wasn’t his lover’s brother talking.  
  
He listened, as he stacked the books beneath the bed, sliding them under there and out of sight. Sam, it seemed, was talking to Dean about various goings-on.  
  
“Yeah, so how’s the art life?” he queried.  
  
“Oh, it’s-- It’s good, Sammy.” Dean assured him, though Castiel hadn’t seen any artwork in this apartment. “The, uh, lawyer life treating you the same?”  
  
“You bet. Hey, where’s your friend?”  
  
Cas’s heart dropped through his stomach. He could actually feel the awkwardness out there, from inside the bedroom. Dean’s heart rate was climbing, stuttering for a moment, before it was forced to calm back down again. Castiel was worried for a second, but then Dean responded.  
  
“What friend?” That wasn’t better.  
  
“The friend you were talking to.” Sam chuckled, “A lady friend? Nice, Dean, really nice. Should I watch where I sit?”  
  
“Shut up. And, yeah, maybe you should.” That part was true. Sam had no idea how much come had-- Alright, Cas had to focus on the conversation. He pressed his ear to the door, listening in on their every word. “Sammy…”  
  
“Dean, it’s cool, they don’t have to hide or whatever.”  
  
It went silent again, save for Dean’s trademark huffing breath of disagreement. He could only hear Dean’s pounding heartbeat for a while, before there was a slight shifting of feet and a desolate sigh.  
  
Castiel took this opportunity to open the bedroom door and walk straight out, horns and tail hidden, but snark truly making up for their absence. He saw Dean’s face fall, his baby frozen in place, like Sam. The younger brother didn’t seem to know how to respond to this. Dean’s mouth just parted in a heavy sigh, as Cas smiled and walked forward, extending a hand to Sam.  
  
“Hi, Sam.” he tried his best to be warm, not come across as the cold-blooded creature he actually was. “Glad to finally meet you.”  
  
“Hi, uh-- Hey.” Sam stammered, taking Castiel’s hand and returning the gesture politely. The demon could feel Sam’s fear, his big body being pushed down to size by the sudden realisation that he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. “Uhm… What’s your name?”  
  
“Cas.” he replied, and shuddered when Sam finally released his hand. He was mentally screaming, and he had a feeling Dean could see it in the sickly-sweet expression on his face.  
  
This boy didn’t have any spark, and was little more than an awkward suburban-bred child with a law degree. As far as Castiel was concerned, he’d sooner count every freckle on Dean’s body, all over again, than have to deal with this. Still, the three of them didn’t speak a word of it, till they were all seated. Sam and Cas, anyway; Dean had gone to make coffee. Sam was on the couch beside where Dean would sit, Castiel situated in a chair adjacent from the two. Again, Dean was horribly nervous, his heart pounding violently. Cas could feel it, even from in the living room.  
  
Sam sat oddly, his large body undoubtedly less graceful than Dean’s. As they watched eachother, Castiel saw that Sam’s face wouldn’t fit Da Vinci’s Golden Ratio. It just… wasn’t right. Part of him didn’t like Sam because of the attention he absorbed from Dean. His human spent a long time, talking about his baby brother; And sure, it was adorable to see those big green eyes light up when he spoke of him, but not the two-thousandth time in a row. Another part of him hated Dean’s father, for making him be the boy’s caretaker for the majority of his childhood, now that he thought about it. Before either of them could really speak, Dean came back with coffee.  
  
Cas gave Dean a little smile, when he handed him his.  
  
“Nothing in yours?” Sam asked quietly.  
  
“I like it black.” he murmured, smirking at the way Sam cringed. He knew that there was a bit of sultry demeanor behind that, and Cas knew that he knew.  
  
The whole apartment was silent, for a while. Neither of the brothers said a word, really, but Cas took great enjoyment in making flirty eyes at Sam. Giving people sexual confusion was one of his specialties. Dean summoned the bravery to clear his throat, after a bit, smiling at the two of them.  
  
“So, Sammy… Uh, this is Cas.” he said, voice stiffened by the uneasy feeling in his belly, no doubt. “He’s my boyfriend.”  
  
Sam nodded quickly, taking another drink of his coffee. Dean followed suit, trying to block out any conversing that might follow that. Castiel just slowly sipped his coffee, his happiness soaring when he truly realised how awkward this made Sam. Though, he did want to cure that queasy feeling Dean had in his stomach. Just wanted to sit next to him, massage that little tummy, so firm, but with just a teensy bit of pudge… He still needed to focus.  
  
Sam hummed. “So, uhm…”  
  
“Yeah, no, that’s…” Dean drank the last of his coffee, anxious. “Uh-huh.”  
  
Castiel sighed, picking absentmindedly at a little tear in his jeans. He toyed with the tiny frays of fabric, just waiting that one of them would grow some balls and ask the fucking question. Sadly, neither of them did, and it left the demon in a rather compromising, odd position. Cas decided to break the weary silence.  
  
“So, Sam… We’ve been together for a while.” he said, grabbing Sam’s attention by the reins. “Little over a month, to be precise.”  
  
“That’s great.” Sam said, smiling.  
  
“Really, we just…” Cas clamped a hand onto Dean’s quivering knee. “...Haven’t left eachother’s side.”  
  
“Ah.” the younger one chuckled, “So a match made in Heaven.”  
  
“Yes.” Cas laughed, feeling Dean loosen up at the sound of the demon’s sweet laughter. “Something like that.”  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
It didn’t take so long for Sam to leave, after that. He and Dean made plans to meet later in the week, perhaps in a less constricting environment. Trite but true, Castiel did not like sharing.  
  
Not in the normal way, no. Not in the lovable, “he’s mine” sort of way, in a similar fashion to newlywed couples. But in the way that he and Dean virtually owned eachother. Castiel’s ancient, tarnished soul was Dean’s to keep, Dean’s to read and cherish. His human’s soul was young and beautiful, Castiel’s to protect and love, to adore, to follow to the ends of the earth, and to teach. It was too early to know if Sam saw this, or at least a hint of it, but Cas knew the conversation would be complex.  
  
Right now, that didn’t matter. Dean was stumbling backward, clutching at Cas’s clothes, trying to pull them off, cast them away. Castiel rushed him, tackled him into bed and laughed triumphantly as he straddled Dean’s hips. The friction of denim-on-denim was perfect against their cocks, Dean chuckling as he arched into Cas’s waiting arms.  
  
“You’re so gorgeous-- Know that?” Dean said, throwing Castiel’s jacket to the side, peeling away the demon’s t-shirt next. “Gorgeous. Fuckin’ beautiful.”  
  
“Mmh…” Cas groaned, as Dean pulled him in for another kiss. A hot, wet smooch that licked, nipped, and sucked on lips, reddening them, the flush in their cheeks turning deeper. “I don’t like sharing you, Dean Winchester.”  
  
Dean chuckled wryly. He supposed his human could’ve seen that. The two of them worked at their belts, helping shuck eachother’s pants and then kicking off their shoes, climbing back together. Castiel laid sprawled on his back, pulling up his legs invitingly. Dean’s cock twitched, hands trembling as he rubbed the demon’s thighs. Those beetle-black eyes stared up at him, sharp teeth bared, horns and tail on full display. That long, snaking tail of his was laid on the bed, flicking impishly.  
  
“Come here.” Cas purred, waggling a finger at him. “Open me with your tongue.”  
  
His baby’s cheeks turned a bright red, eyes wide as he heard Cas speak. Castiel turned over, lying on his stomach, leg bent to the side. His back arching was practically an invitation to debauch the demon. He wanted to know what Dean was like when he ate. Castiel glanced over his shoulder, black eyes narrowed, pretty mouth twisted into a smile.  
  
“Do you want me… or not?” he mewled, pouting cutely. He knew that face was Dean’s very weakness.  
  
Dean touched him all over, rubbing his back and kissing a warm trail down his spine, before Castiel could let out the breath he was holding. Dean was good. Even as Dean’s luscious mouth lavished his ass, he still found time to reach back and knot his fingers into that hair, push him deeper. Deeper, till Dean was fucking Cas’s hole with his tongue, and the demon pushed back.  
  
_“My love…”_

**Author's Note:**

> SOo... have any of you guys ever written a really big porn in one day, or...  
> Yes, I'll be going, now.  
> I hope you enjoyed the second installment. There will be more plot in the 3rd part, I swear! <3


End file.
